A Sickness Called Desire
by faeluver
Summary: Years after the Labyrinth. Sarah is sick. Can Jareth's Fae Magic save her, or will they have to find old love to heal each other? Read and Review! COMPLETE
1. Phase 1: Dreams and Tea

A Sickness Called Desire  
  
By  
  
FaeLuver  
  
Phase 1: Dreams and Tea  
  
Sarah doesn't dream. Or at least, she doesn't anymore. She once used to dream plenty. About many things. Ripe melons growing large in the shuddering sunlight, children playing childhood games like hopscotch and doctor. Sarah remembers these dreams though they are swept back in the caverns of her soul, even the dark disturbing ones. A dark train thrusting through a dark tunnel, and of course, the darkest of the dark, the one that caused the darkness of her heart to go black: The Goblin King, floating above her, his dark gloved hand holding his mirrored crystal.  
  
It is these memories of dreams that keep her from going mad. And it was only after her victory over The Goblin King, did these dreams halt their lulling lilting lullabies. Even after her parents died in a horrific train wreck and she was given laudanum to dope away her pain, even those deep sleeps did not give her the dreams she seeked. Only awake and in pain, could she fully slip away into dreaming.  
  
Now, she sits, wrapped tightly in an afghan rug, sitting before a roaring fire. Her hand shakes as she lifts her teacup to her ruby red lips. The dopamine has not yet taken its effect, and she closes her eyes, searching for a reverie beyond her reach.  
  
"Hey sis, where are you?" a bubbly voice chimes. A door opens and slam. Then opens and slams again, a fourteen year old Toby appears, his dirt bike with him. Honk Honk goes his bicycle horn, a greeting as Toby greets her with a smile.  
  
"Toby," Sarah manages weakly. "I told you, the bike must stay outside."  
  
"Aw, but I wanted to show you my new wheels! And you're too sick to go outside anymore!" Toby frowns, his beautiful young youthful face lamenting his sister's serious sickness.  
  
"Oh Toby," Sarah sighs, puts down her teacup. The fire still roars. "Come here."  
  
With a crash, the dirty bike falls in the hallway as Toby comes galloping to Sarah's side. He sits, burying his head in her lap as she strokes his young, lovely hair.  
  
"You know that I love you more than anything," Sarah whispered hoarsely. She felt him nod, wordless as she stroked his hair. But as the grandfather clock above the mantel chimed, he felt his sister jump. Pulling himself out of her lap, he looked, lamentably into her sad brown eyes.  
  
"What is it?" he asked worriedly, too worried for a young lovely boy.  
  
Sarah shook her head. "It's nothing. Nothing." She closed her eyes, trying not to remember the chiming of the thirteenth hour and Jareth, glorious and white before her.  
  
You have no power over me.  
  
Yes but how wrong she was! Now she had no power over anything, not even her own bowel movements. Sarah breathes deeply and meets Toby's worried eyes. His hand reaches up to touch her pale pale face. But instead his clumsy knee meets her abandoned teacup and a dark stain presses itself upon the pure whiteness of the rug.  
  
"Toby," Sarah chides gently.  
  
"I'll get Nurse Beatrice!" Toby replied, standing to attention, rushing out of the room as if an army of ghosts is chasing him down a moonlit path.  
  
Sarah's eyes rest upon the clock. It has been a few months since she has been diagnosed with lymphoma and ever since then, she watches the clock with a hawk's eye. As if it is the only timepiece that will inform her of what time she has left. She looks down at the teacup, and attempts to lift it, but she is as weak as a newborn kitty. Her tendons ache with effort.  
  
Just in time, Nurse Beatrice appears. Her face soft and grandmotherly.  
  
"Is the mistress wanting more tea?" the nurse asked, cleaning up the mess.  
  
"Yes Beatrice, thank you." Sarah put a hand over her eyes.  
  
"Which is the mistress hankering for? The Lipton?"  
  
"That's fine Beatrice, thank you."  
  
"Hows bouts the Salada?"  
  
"The first is fine, Beatrice."  
  
"Or the Barry's?"  
  
Sarah sighed. "The Lipton please Beatrice."  
  
Nurse Beatrice hobbled over to the door. "How abouts a taste of the new Fortnum and Mason?"  
  
Sarah felt tears roaring up into her eyes. Why was life so difficult! So sad, and so difficult!  
  
Nurse Beatrice noticed her lady's sad expression. " Perhaps the misses would maybe like me to put all of them in a cup with some nice hot water?"  
  
Sarah sniffed. "Yes, yes that would be nice. Thank you Nurse Beatrice."  
  
Sarah presses a weak hand to her burning forehead. Why am I so hot? She wondered, pulling the afghan tighter around herself as Nurse Beatrice returned to add more wood to the fire.  
  
Sarah nodded, closed her eyes. For a moment she wondered if this really was it. If she really was terminal, if she really was going to die. She was only twenty-eight years old. Her acting career was ready to break through when she was diagnosed; Toby was in a good school. And this dream house of hers in warm Santa Barbara was paid for. She would never know the feel of the stage again, or see Toby grow up. And she would never fulfill her desire to know the warm burning hot touch of a man.  
  
Yes, she had known love. She had even been engaged during college to a beautiful beautician named Brett. He had respected her purity, was ready to wait until their wedding night. But she knew, deep down, that was not the reason. It was the Labyrinth that held her back. It was the memories of Jareth.  
  
"Ms. Sarah! Ms. Sarah wake up!"  
  
Sarah shook her head, her sad brown eyes opened to meet the kind soft face of Nurse Beatrice. She nodded, allowing Beatrice to help her up and take her upstairs.  
  
Sarah remembered how much she used to love her room. How her father and stepmother would often times beg her to come outside with promises of Shakespeare plays and romance magazine subscriptions.  
  
Now, she abhorred her room. It was always dark and smelled of sickness. The windows before her bed were always kept shut, for once this day the shades were pulled open to reveal day breaking into night. Here she was hooked up to an IV, and sometimes even a ventilator, the *whoosh* whoosh noises it made, kept her awake and shaking.  
  
Her eyes had slowly been giving way, so all of her beautiful books, such as her complete collector's edition of Danielle Steele novels, rotted on the bookcase. All she could do now was watch television and daydream about The Goblin City.  
  
But for some reason, this late afternoon turning into night, Sarah slept. Sarah dreamed.  
  
She was back in the ballroom, back dancing with Jareth. He was before her, dressed in the finest of blue crushed velvet, his hair streaked in the most magnificent of blue hues. His hands held hers and she admired his amazing manicure as they twirled and twirled ceaselessly, never dizzying, never tiring of one another.  
  
"Sarah," he whispered. "Your eyes are so beautiful."  
  
Sarah smiled, whispering back, "I'm wearing contacts. Oh Jareth, there is so much—"  
  
Jareth pressed a well-moisturized finger to Sarah's lips. "Shhh, don't talk. We have all night."  
  
He dipped her deep, almost to the floor, as the masqueraded couples around them cheered and laughed.  
  
Jareth smiled, his tongue flicking over his pointy teeth. "How does I feel, my dear sweet soul, to be the one with no power?" His mismatched eyes glowed, as Sarah began to shake.  
  
Sarah awoke with a start, sweating from the top of her forehead, to the lower part of her forehead.  
  
You have no power over me.  
  
She shook with fear, loss, remorse, regret, many emotions swirling and churning together in a large mix of sad sad colors. Her first dream in so long! A dream she had dreamed to dream for so many years! And Jareth, beautiful Jareth. He had looked at her like—like she had lost. Like he really knew that she was losing. Losing her life.  
  
Sarah wanted to cry, to scream. But she was so very tired. The TV blared on, the picture shuddering, then shutting off completely.  
  
Sarah stared at the blank television as the trees outside her window began to dance as a furious wind tangled itself upon their glistening arms. She heard the distant rumble of thunder, as her ventilator sputtered then stood still, silent as well as the black TV.  
  
"What's going on…" she whispered worldlessly, pulling her afghan closer, sweat on her brow as the fire in the fireplace crackled wildly. Sarah held the afghan tighter as she felt a breeze caress the back of her neck, until it was a full out mid-heavy breeze, shaking the curtains into a frenzy.  
  
Sarah tried to leave her bed; to escape from what she knew was inescapable. She grabbed on tightly to the bedpost, heaving her heaviness out of the bed as owl eyes met her own. She fell to the floor, gasping for breath as the creature slammed its iridescent ivory opaque body across the floor and towards the closed door. But she was too late, for with a mighty slam, the windows flew open, allowing entrance to this powerful vessel.  
  
"No," Sarah cried out. "No! It was just a dream. It was just a dream—"  
  
She turned to see booted feet before her. Her eyes traveled dup to the stately body of The Goblin King, clothed in the most beautiful black velour, encumbered with priceless rubies. His wild ash blond hair caressed the stale air, as he bent down to her.  
  
"A dream?" Jareth whispered to the shivering girl. "Sarah, light of my darkness, you have always known I am all your dreams. Your fantasies."  
  
"No, please," Sarah begged, clinging to his flowing poet's shirt. Her hand grazed on his slightly bared, muscled chest. "You have to let me—" she gasped for breath. "Let me—"  
  
"Let you die my sweet berry? No. I am here to save you. To take you back."  
  
Sarah struggled. "But you can't! You won't!"  
  
Jareth's multihued eyes went dark. "This is not an option." He swept her up with hard anger.   
  
Sarah tried to fight him with all her might, as his lips pressed down on her damp mouth. 


	2. Phase 2: You Fiend!

Phase 2: You Fiend!  
  
When Sarah opened her eyes again, they were in a room she had never seen before.  
  
Jareth stepped back, an aristocratic sneer on his Fae lips. "What do you think, Sarah?"  
  
She looked around. The bed was covered in dark red velvet, with velvet curtains on three sides. His velvet dressing gown was flung carelessly over a chair. She looked again at the bed, and gasped when she realized she was in a bedroom.   
  
"You're a fiend!" she gasped, taking a step back from his dangerously close masculinity.   
  
He grinned and tossed his choppy blond locks. "I meant the décor, Sarah, but I'll accept the compliment." He took a step closer, once again making the proximity of his masculinity dangerous. "For I am not afraid to admit to my darker side. Why are you?"  
  
Sarah blushed and stammered, sure that the darker side had something to do with sex. Or maybe not having a terminal illness.   
  
"You're a fiend," she spat after a moment of thought.   
  
"Sarah, is that any way to talk to your future husband?" He smiled and waved a gloved Fae hand, and a flimsy garment appeared.   
  
"You shall be safe here in the Labyrinth," he said. "You may sleep here tonight, while I order my goblins to prepare a chamber for you. They will be up all night making more velvet, and you must get some sleep." He ran his tongue over his pointy Fae teeth. "You should be…rested."  
  
"Jareth, what have you done?" She looked around. "Also, why is my disease gone?"  
  
"I am Fae," he responded with a disarming immortal smile. "Goodnight, Sarah."  
  
"Wait! I have a lot of plot questions!" she called, but he had already disappeared in a flurry of chiffon.  
  
She sighed and looked at the nightgown in her hands. It was soft, probably a rayon/polyester blend. Maybe 60%/40%. But then, Sarah was sure of so little these days. She sighed and slipped the knee-length, sleeveless, vaguely transparent, slightly blanket-sewn at the hem nightgown over her head.   
  
She sat on the edge of the bed. "I wish I had some tea," she mused. "Everything else here is so strange."  
  
A cup of tea appeared on the nightstand.  
  
"Aha!" She grinned. "I wish to be outside the Labyrinth!"  
  
A small pitcher of cream appeared beside her cup.  
  
*  
  
When Jareth appeared in his room that night to pick up his hair glitter, Sarah was fitfully asleep, her vaguely transparent nightgown artfully twisted over the womanly assets she had spent her years outside the Labyrinth tending, like flowering blossoms of roses.   
  
He spread his velvet cape over the velvety soft coverlet, leaning down to brush her silky velvety hair off her porcelain face. She seemed so young still, so inexperienced, and he knew that even though he had saved her from death to come be the queen of the Underground, as soon as she found out she was going to want to scream at him and run away.  
  
He wondered if he really loved her, or if that had been an illusion, and the velvet curtain of love had been drawn over his Fae eyesight, until he thought himself besotted with a mortal girl whose sweet and tender love could have sent him to a mortal prison for many years. He couldn't be sure, wouldn't be sure until he held her willingly in his arms. Or mostly.   
  
He leaned down, brushing his fair Fae hair aside to whisper into her ear.  
  
"My darling rose, my sweet velvet body cushion, soon you will be all mine, and your silky depths and heights shall tremble for my love. And on that day, you shall thank me for saving you, not only now, but all those years ago in the Labyrinth, when I assured your return to me, sweetest Sarah."  
  
In her sleep she stirred, frowning a little. "Tea," she whispered faintly.   
  
He smiled. "Yes, my little kettle, soon you shall scream for the hot water of my affections."  
  
Her eyelids fluttered against her silken velvet skin, and he waved his gloved hand and disappeared, and when Sarah woke there was only a sliver of pale, tan, hairless chest where the Goblin King had been.  
  
*  
  
Sarah hadn't slept well all night, wondering why she wasn't feeling sick anymore, and also why Jareth had brought her back. What kind of sweet berry was she? Her dreams had been strange as well, filled with cups of tea and a maze she couldn't solve. There was a puzzle at the center, and she was afraid, deathly afraid to answer its question, for it meant giving away her heart.   
  
Or it meant she had to stop having tea before bedtime.   
  
A knock at the door startled her, and she called out "Hello?"  
  
A goblin entered, short as most goblins, but just tall enough to carry a dress without the edges dragging. "I'm ordered to dress mistress," she said apprehensively.  
  
Sarah tossed her hair, accidentally knocking the bedside table over with the sheer weight and shine of her ebony locks. "I shall wear what I choose, and not what the Goblin King orders me to!" she declared.   
  
The goblin began to shake. "Then shall I get the clothes where mistress has been sick on them?"  
  
*  
  
Sarah appeared in the king's throne room. She was dressed in a dress of palest blue and deepest cerulean, with puffed navy sleeves and a full skirt slashed to reveal a lapis petticoat.   
  
"Jareth," she yelled into the empty room, "send me back home!"  
  
Jareth's eyes raked over her frame, and he adjusted his codpiece, and the ends of his gloves.   
  
"Why should I?" he asked. "I've been waiting for years for you to return to me. When you were too sick to resist, I took you back by force in order to heal you and offer you my kingdom. Also, I wanted someone to wear all the dresses I've had made with someone of your general height in mind."  
  
Sarah stamped her blue-slipper-clad foot in annoyance. "Jareth, you can't bring someone somewhere against their will and force them to do what you say!"  
  
"It seems that years ago you did the same things to me, and yet you don't seem worried about that."  
  
"You stole my brother!"  
  
"You asked me to."  
  
"That's not the point! You fiend!" She tossed her ebony tresses. "Send me home!"  
  
"I cannot. And even if I could, if I sent you back, you would die."  
  
"Better die than be your slave forever!" she cried.   
  
He stood, removing his glass of champagne where he had been resting it on his codpiece. "Sarah," he said, "you're missing my point."  
  
"I hate you!" she screamed, and she picked up the cerulean, blue, and lapis skirts in her hands and charged out of the throne room.   
  
When she stopped to catch her breath, she realized she was far beyond the grounds of the castle, and it was getting dark. She rubbed the angry tears from her eyes.  
  
"I refuse to be the wife of the Goblin King!" she said. "Nice boys don't kidnap you before they propose."  
  
Her mind reminded her, The Goblin King was never a nice boy. And that's what you've always desired. A not-nice boy.  
  
She told her mind to be quiet.   
  
"I wonder where I am," she said to no one in particular, looking around at the forest around her. The leaves were velvet soft, and with the coming night they were dark as the eye of Jareth's that was darker than his other eye, which was lighter. "Just another part of the Labyrinth," she sighed. "The 'velvet tree' part. Ah well. I entered it once and made it through," she told herself. "I can make it through again!"  
  
She ran through the velveteen forest. She ran along cobblestone lanes and between ivy-covered walls. She ran by swamplands and the roots of gnarled trees. She even ran passed through stinking heaps of garbage filled with drunk, sleeping goblins, evidence that the Underground lacked, among other things, decent recycling programs or homeless shelters.  
  
Not once did she stop. "Dwarfs and talking worms be damned!" she hissed between heavy breaths. "The tricky Fae magicks that infuse this place won't distract me from my goals this time!" Even the tiny imp shouting profanities about Sarah's departed mother could slow her mad dash through the Labyrinth.  
  
She was so engrossed with running that it never dawned on her that she had no idea where she was going. Labyrinths had the tendency of doing that sort of thing. Especially Fae labyrinths. 


	3. Phase 3: A SuitorA Fae Suitor

Phase 3: A Suitor--A Fae Suitor  
  
After hours of ceaseless running, Sarah slowed to a halt. Her breaths grew heavier. She broke out in a cold sweat. She felt dizzy. "Could this be my lymphoma catching up with me?" she asked herself. "Oh, why hadn't I paid attention to the symptoms of my horrible and eventually tragically fatal disease?!"  
  
He healed you, said a voice in her head.  
  
This wasn't her voice. This was a different voice. A male voice. A Fae voice.  
  
He healed you, the voice repeated. But you flee from him. With every step you take, the effects of his magic wear off. Your disease is returning, Sarah, my delicate bloom.  
  
"Jareth?" Sarah asked. But then she thought better of it. Jareth hadn't reached a point in his character development that would make him address himself in the third person. "Who are you?"  
  
I am the man with no name.  
  
"What?"  
  
Codan. My name is Codan.  
  
"But you said—"  
  
Effect, my sweet. Dramatic effect.  
  
"Wait. Who are—"  
  
Shhh. Don't speak.  
  
Once again Sarah opened her mouth in protest, but stopped suddenly as a thick mist began accumulating around her ankles. The air grew heavy with moisture. Panicked, Sarah tried to run away, but she found her body much too weak. Defeated, she slumped to the ground.   
  
"I'm done for," she sighed, "a victim of this accursed lymphoma! Most debilitating of the terminal illnesses!" Her breathing became more labored. "I'm so weak," she managed. "If someone were to approach me with the intent of ravishing my supple young body, I would be powerless to stop them!"  
  
The mist grew thicker. Sarah noticed a shadowy form walking through the fog toward her. She gasped.  
  
Hello again, my dearest Sarah.  
  
That voice again. Did it belong to the being before her?  
  
The fog cleared around the figure, revealing a striking gentleman, clearly of Fae descent. He wore an ostentatious outfit of red and black motley, each red chevron the most brilliant scarlet velour, each black section the finest of ebon-hued velvet. A cloak of shimmering black taffeta flowed regally from his shoulders, and a pillowy, red velvet hat sat rakishly atop his head, a single long peacock feather its only ornamentation. His codpiece, a bulging pouch of black velour, was studded with rhinestones. And he had the most curious smile Sarah had ever seen.  
  
The man extended his pale, well-manicured hand towards Sarah, who took it without thinking.  
  
Your hands are softer than silk.   
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
I said… I mean, "I said, your hands are softer than silk. I'm quite taken with them."  
  
"Perhaps. But please, stop stroking them."  
  
"My apologies."  
  
"You are Codan?" she asked, noting that the man's codpiece seemed… heavier… than Jareth's did.  
  
"You are correct." His eyes grew wide as Sarah breathed heavily, her chest heaving slowly up and down. He found his eyes unable to part with the sight of her generous cleavage. Her gown was also quite beautiful. Not nearly as much velvet as he would have liked, but an exquisite dress nonetheless. A few sequins or rhinestones would have made it perfect.  
  
Sarah coughed. Apparently it was something lymphoma patients did. "You are ill," Codan said. "Jareth healed you, but with your escape, his magic fades. Typical. A deliberate ploy to keep you by his side."  
  
"How… how do you know all this?"  
  
"I am Fae."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Would you like some tea?"  
  
"No, thanks, I've had plenty and—"  
  
"Manservants!" Codan shouted.   
  
From the mist shuffled two lanky goblins, wearing nothing but black leather straps, spiked collars, and tight-fitting codpieces. One was gagged. The other carried a tea tray.  
  
"Would the mistress like some cream in her tea?" the one goblin asked, thrusting a saucer and a cup brimming with hot tea into her pale hands.  
  
"Rr srm srgr?" the other said, tapping a sugar bowl.  
  
Sarah ignored the goblins and took a tentative sip from her cup.  
  
"Does the tea please you?" Codan asked.  
  
Sarah weakly shrugged.  
  
"Ah, but the atmosphere does not! Fear not, my voluptuous goddess! I shall remedy the situation immediately! For I am Fae!"  
  
Suddenly, the fog receded. No longer were they in the Labyrinth, but a decadent palace draped in velvet. Everything shone with the glitter of precious metals and the sparkle of generously applied rhinestones.   
  
"Welcome to my home, my luscious angel."  
  
Sarah was shocked. The cold stone of the Labyrinth beneath her had been replaced with an elegant mahogany chair with a red velour cushion. A table heavy with more assorted teas than the British Isles sat before her. Codan stood at her side, gently stroking behind the pointed ears of one of his goblin servants.   
  
She noticed her strength had returned. "Did you… am I healed?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"But… when did you do that?"  
  
"A few seconda ago. My powers are Fae. Also, you can't feel when they're working," he explained. "More tea?"  
  
"No thanks, I haven't finished this cup and—"  
  
"Manservants! More tea for my elegant garden bloom!" he demanded. "Listen, my darling Sarah, I have healed you. I may only be his cousin, but my healing powers far exceed those of Jareth."  
  
Sarah nearly choked on her tea. Did he just say he was Jareth's cousin?  
  
"Jareth's healing powers always come with a price, you see? With you, it was the need to stay within the confine of his castle. With others he has healed, they have transformed into a form completely unlike their own. The goblins populating this realm, the creatures Jareth claims kingship over? They were human once. All of them diseased like yourself. Cancer. Tuberculosis. Syphilis. Pinkeye. Jareth cured them all, yet with time they became twisted goblinoids." He gently patted the rear of the closest servant, who scurried off to get more tea and perhaps a velvet-covered footstool.  
  
"I can heal without such side-effects. But who do the ill flock to? That hack Jareth! It isn't fair, you know. It just isn't fair."  
  
Sarah took another sip of tea. "Yes, but… what do I have to do with all of this?"  
  
"You, my dear, will be used as revenge."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Revenge! And I love you!"  
  
"You love me? But you just met me!"  
  
"Nonsense!" said the smiling Fae. "We may have just met, but I have been watching you with this," he said, producing a crystal sphere from some hidden pocket. "You look shocked. Jareth's not the only one who has one of these. And I can actually do the neat juggling thing without requiring a stand-in hand!"  
  
"You fiend! You've been spying on me!"  
  
"Maybe a little. But what I've said is true, Sarah! I love you! I love you more than I've loved any woman. And I mean that in every possible way!"  
  
Sarah's eyes narrowed. She slammed her cup down onto the table, spilling tea onto the lacy white tablecloth. A goblin rushed in to clean it up. "You're no different than Jareth! When will you Fae learn?"  
  
"You don't share my feelings of love for you, pretty one?"  
  
"No! I don't even know you!"  
  
"But I told you so much about myself! That was pertinent information! I don't share that sort of thing with just anyone!"  
  
"I don't care! You can't simply say, 'I love you,' and expect me to feel the same way. Love takes time, Codan. Its something that just sort of happens," she said, unsure if that made any sense at all. "And for starters, you have to romance a woman first. Not fill her with tea!"  
  
Codan smiled. "Romance?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
He snapped his fingers. Suddenly, ensorcelled chains flew from the walls behind Sarah, whipping aside her chair and wrapping themselves around her wrists. Then the chains dragged her backwards, pinning her against the wall. Codan smiled wider as the chains tightened around her, spreading her limbs and pushing her chest a few fractions higher.  
  
"My apologies," he laughed, "but my idea of 'romance' may differ slightly from your own!"  
  
Sarah gasped, her supple wrists pinned to the not-nearly-as-supple wall. "What are you doing!" she cried.  
  
Codan smirked, strutting towards her slowly, like a slow strutting thing. "Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," he said. "Don't deny that this has always been your fantasy!"  
  
"Never!" Sarah cried, turning her face away from Codan's dastardly handsomeness.  
  
Codan came closer, so close that she could smell his exotic scent; perhaps he was wearing Brute, or Axe. Despite everything, she felt her knees shudder as he leaned into her. The power of him was exhausting and his codpiece was enthralling.  
  
Codan's mouth opened, and out poured a sonnet, written by his cruel, dark heart.  
  
When I beheld your bouncing bosoms sweet  
  
And had perused your diaries - seen them all,   
  
I knew the way for you and I to meet  
  
Was for myself to chain you to a wall.   
  
And when I had, my codpiece stood right proud  
  
I strok'd my velvet - sleeves - with great renown  
  
For with you chained, I was right quick allow'd  
  
To tear away your lapis sky blue gown.   
  
You thought I was a man you wished I was,   
  
Jareth! That fool, he could not keep you near.  
  
But you were happy enough to do his cous',   
  
And I am smart enough to keep you here.   
  
You will rule with me the realm of S'aan,   
  
Beside the man without a name. Codan.  
  
"Sarah," he said after his sonnet was completed, his whisper brushing against her lovely dark tresses. "I know your fantasies, more so than even Jareth."  
  
"How?" she whispered back, noticing that his eyes were not multi-colored.  
  
"I can read your thoughts." Codan stepped back from her. "I also read your diary."  
  
Sarah gasped. "The one on my bedside table?"  
  
Codan grinned. "No."  
  
"The red one with yellow ribbon that I hide in the bookcase downstairs?"  
  
"No."  
  
Sarah gasped. "Not the little black book underneath the bathroom tile!"  
  
Codan winked. "The very same."  
  
Sarah whipped her shackles into action. "How dare you! You bastard! I mean—You fiend! You will not have me! No matter how many of my many diaries you have read!"  
  
Codan frowned. "I will have you, whether by your own will, or by force, it does not matter." He strode over to her quickly, pinning himself against her.  
  
Sarah squirmed, she shoved, she even tried to shimmy, but to no avail. Codan's hard and deliciously scented body was upon her and refusing to budge.  
  
"Shhhhh, my sweet berry," Codan whispered. "I will be gentle. I know you have never known the warm burning hot touch of a man."  
  
"Only because you read my diary!" Sarah cried.  
  
Codan's well-lubricated left hand stroked Sarah's shaking side. "No, it's not just that. Though it did help me decide what I was going to wear today."   
  
Sarah's lips trembled as Codan bent his head and placed his lips upon the hollow of her neck. Sarah's eyes closed momentarily. She was held against her will, yet Codan was so skilled with his lips, and as he gently bit her alabaster skin, she wondered if he had read her last diary entry, describing a detailed fantasy of she and the Vampire Lestat.  
  
"Just relax, Sarah," Codan ordered, his lips making a slight geometric pattern of pentagons and obtuse triangles, up and around her neck. "I know your fantasy."  
  
Sarah's eyes opened. "I just thought—"  
  
Codan pressed a finger against Sarah's ruby red lips. "You thought I was Jareth? Ah, now that is the fantasy I am more accustomed to my sweet berry." He looked deep into her one-dimensional eyes. "I am Jareth." His voice deepened into the deepest recesses, his look, hypnotizing her. For a moment Sarah could actually see Jareth standing before her.  
  
"No, you're not Jareth! You're not!" She cried, moving her head sideways, trying to avoid Codan's burning, searing eyes.  
  
"Look me in the eyes and tell me," he whispered furiously, raking his hands across her tethered body.  
  
Oh Jareth, if only it was you raking my tethered body and not this rake!  
  
"Never!" She shouted as he grabbed her porcelain chin, forcing her to look into his non-multi colored eyes.  
  
"Sarah," he whispered delicately. "See what you want to see. Feel what you've always felt. I know your dreams. Better than Jareth, better than Toby, better than your therapist Mr. Jameson who you see Monday, Wednesday and Friday of every week. Let me soothe you. Let me give you want you desire." 


	4. Phase 4: Release Me! Ravish Me!

Phase 4: Release Me! Ravish Me!  
  
"What I desire," Sarah languidly replied, here eyes encased in the plain velvety view of Codan's.  
  
"Jareth," Codan stated.  
  
"Jareth," Sarah repeated, her head bobbing like a sinking life jacket. Her beautiful eyelids closed.  
  
Codan's hands danced before Sarah. "Now wake, and see what I have in store for you!"  
  
Sarah shuddered; her head lifted and there was Jareth! She knew it was him by his glorious codpiece and flowing ash blond hair.  
  
"Jareth!" she cried. "It's you!"  
  
"Of course my darling sunset!" Jareth replied, kissing her delicately. "I have vanquished the evil, yet incredibly handsome Codan and I am here to save you, by wilting buttercup."  
  
Sarah shuddered, she felt feverish and weak as Jareth kissed her again, languidly and longingly, his tongue pressing against her lips until he allowed her entry into her hot cavernous mouth. Sarah moaned deeply as Jareth's hands encircled her tiny tiny waist. As he pressed against her, she sighed, but then began to cough furiously. Had she been away from her ventilator for too long?  
  
"Jareth," she murmured. "Release me from these chains! They hurt my arms and legs!"  
  
Jareth smiled, his hooded eyes traveling in and around, up and down, sideways and diagonally across her Venus like body.  
  
"I don't think you'll be needing the use of your legs at the moment my dear," Jareth growled, pouncing upon her and ravishing her mouth once again. As his hands cupped her supple bosom, Sarah completely and fully 110% percently, gave herself to a pleasure she had always dreamed about.  
  
It took only moments for Jareth to completely disrobe her, until she was completely naked, her butt slightly chaffing against the rough wall. Jareth pulled open his flowy poets shirt, which wasn't that difficult as it was only the barest of bare see-through gauze.   
  
"Take me!" Sarah cried, her head rolling and lolling against the uneven wall. "Take me!" She cried louder as Jareth's magical hands circled her heavenly breasts, pinching and prodding her until she could take no more.  
  
"Take you where?" Jareth asked curiously, slightly dumbfounded, his hands halting their caressing movements. "Oh," he replied to her steely gaze, removing his magnificent bejeweled codpiece.  
  
Sarah could not control her virginal body. Shaking and whimpering, she tried her best to answer his wild animal fury as his hard throbbing love wand pressed against her trembling thigh.  
  
And then they were one. Sarah gasped as she felt Jareth fully within her luscious cavern, his dragon pumping inside her until she could bear no more. She exploded in his arms; like a firecracker lit too long as her red-tipped warrior met her sated eyes.  
  
"You are so beautiful, my chained wonder!" The man named Jareth whispered as his steaming velvet sheath spilled his mini-Jareth's inside her.  
  
Sarah stared deep into Jareth's eyes as her breathing returned to normal. But as she looked deep into her lover's eyes, she realized they were not the multi-colored orbs she knew so well from her dreams.  
  
"You're not Jareth!" Sarah cried.  
  
"No, but I am!" came another voice. Possibly Jareth's.  
  
Sarah and Codan turned to look at the approaching figure that was probably Jareth. Since it was, Codan shouted, "Jareth!"  
  
And Sarah nearly swooned, "Jareth!"  
  
Both were still completely naked from their recent bout of hot Fae lovemaking. Much to their surprise, Jareth too was completely in the buff; save for an unusually shaped codpiece of deep blue velvet that Sarah and Codan knew contained the most exquisite of Fae passion wands. Sarah felt the sudden urge to be filled in ways Codan was incapable of.  
  
"Codan, you diabolical—" Jareth began, stopping himself from cursing in front of the lady. "How dare you! Here I think Sarah has run away from me, when really it was all some cunning scheme of yours to bed my love!"  
  
"No. I actually ran away and—"  
  
"Whisked away from me, in my own kingdom!"  
  
"You were there when I ran, Jareth! I hardly think—"  
  
"Stolen from right under my nose! Codan, you've gone too far!"  
  
Codan merely licked his lips, then broke into melodious Fae laughter. "You're too late, cousin dear. For I have already deflowered your radiant bloom!" He laughed harder, mockingly, and it ate away at Jareth's soul.  
  
The goblin king fell to his knees and wept. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" he screamed, arms falling to his sides in as melodramatic a way possible.  
  
Sarah was about to speak, but Codan shushed her. He walked over to the crying Jareth, a wicked smile on his face, his spent Fae-hood limp between his thighs. "That's right, cousin. Let it all out. Oh, and for the record, she was goooooooood. And once Codan junior comes to, I think I'll have to take her again!"  
  
"He's gonna tap dat ass!" a goblin shouted from around a corner.  
  
"And to think, all it took was the simplest of illusions to make her mine. Would it pain you greatly to know that she thought it was you and not I, that she made love with?"  
  
Jareth howled in agony.  
  
"I see it does. Delicious."  
  
"You… FIEND!" Jareth suddenly shot up and slammed into Codan, knocking him onto the ground. Within seconds, both powerful Fae were upon each other, furiously attacking one another as they tumbled and rolled around the soft velvet carpeting of the palace floor.  
  
Sarah gasped as the men wrestled one another, Codan naked, Jareth practically so. Her heart-rate increased, just as it had when she leafed through an Abercrombie catalogue for the first time. She dared not stop interfere with the grapplers.  
  
They attacked each other for what seemed like hours. At one point, they even managed to get some sort of baby-oil-like substance all over their muscular bodies. Sarah nearly fainted. A few goblins watching actually did, while another shook his head in disgust and wandered off to his chambers for a girly magazine.  
  
Finally, Jareth pushed Codan's well-oiled body off of his. Codan fell limp onto the floor, and sputtered, "I have… lost?"  
  
"Indeed. For I am Fae."  
  
"But… I too am Fae."  
  
"Perhaps. But stupid Fae."  
  
Jareth readjusted his codpiece. Then, with a few soft incantations, his hands began to glow with fiery orange light. "This is the end, Codan."  
  
"But cousin!"  
  
Jareth's eyes narrowed. "Don't 'but cousin' me!"  
  
The orange Fae magic burst forth from Jareth's hands, enveloping Codan. When the flickering witch-fires died away, nothing remained of Codan save a diamond-encrusted pinky ring and a few gold fillings.  
  
"Jareth!" Sarah uttered, completely astonished. "You killed him!"  
  
"He deserved far worse for what he did to you."  
  
"Oh, Jareth! I'm so sorry! I… I thought… I thought he was you! And furthermore… he left me so unfulfilled. And by that I mean his penis wasn't very big. I think he stuffed his codpiece."  
  
Jareth's multi-colored eyes were distant and Sarah wondered why he did not reply. Perhaps he stuffed his codpiece as well? No, that musn't be true! She told herself, as Jareth freed her from her iron bindings. Sarah rubbed her butt absentmindedly as Jareth handed over her ripped and ravished clothes.   
  
She looked over to him, noticing he was now dressed in the finest white poet's shirt. The buttons where the perfection of pearl, their enchanting light dancing against his alabaster medallion. His outfit was completed with disarmingly beautiful gray silk pants and a sheepskin cape adorning his shoulders with the sheep still attached.   
  
"What of Codan's goblins Jareth?" Sarah asked, now noticing that Jareth would not meet her sad eyes that were so desperately sad.   
  
"They shall return with us, as they are, like all the others, my failure."  
  
'Thnk yre srie," said the goblin with the gag.  
  
Sarah's shaking hand, still white from her deadly disease, reached for Jareth's magnificently masculine shoulder. "Jareth I'm so sorry—"  
  
Jareth wrenched himself away from her sickly touch, his sheep cape baaing faintly.  
  
"It's too soon Sarah. You've broken my impenetrable Fae heart."  
  
And with that, he whisked them away, in a flurry of glitter, sparkles and magic, back to the castle. 


	5. Phase 5: T is for Lonliness

Phase 5: "T" is for Lonliness  
  
Sarah sat on her damask bed, flipping idly through a Goblin Weekly magazine. Ever since her ravishment, she had locked herself away, unable to look into Jareth's downtrodden multi-hued eyes. The last time she saw him, he sat, alone and befuddled in his throne room, surrounded by broken crystals.  
  
"Codan's more practiced magic had nothing to do with my betrayal Jareth!" she had said, clutching her embroidered silk petticoat adorned with lace floral arrangements.  
  
"Leave me!" Jareth yelled, tossing his crystal so close that it broke into pieces just millimeters away from Sarah's slightly coral velvet slippers.  
  
Sarah had ran, but this time only to her room, where she locked herself away, only allowing her goblin maid access with trays of freshly brewed tea.  
  
You have no power over me  
  
Oh, how wrong she had been all those years ago! How wrong and cruel! He had power over her, as much as her horrible terminal disease did. All he had wanted was to rescue her. But his help was to no avail, for she felt herself growing sicker by the moment. Sarah realized that she understood nothing of this place, especially since it had all turned rather silly and there were a lot more codpieces then on her first adventure through the Labyrinth.  
  
Sarah fell back on her damask bed, turning her soft cheek into the downy softness. She felt cold, so cold she felt somewhat warm and warm until she felt hot and not cold at all. Sarah could feel sweat beading on her glorious forehead and she touched her dry lips.   
  
Sarah fell into a listless sleep. She was in the magical ballroom again, dressed to perfection in a black velvet corset with a long jet-black skirt slit to her upper thighs. Her feet were enclosed in fresh black leather, and she wondered why she was dressed so splendidly, yet so much like a cheap street hooker.  
  
But no matter, the music around her was rising, rising! She felt her body move in a dance, alone and fitful on the floor. She danced gracefully, like an enchanted ballerina, or well-trained stripper.   
  
And there, amongst the preening crowd, watching her with mask adorning his eyes, was Jareth. He slowly parted from the champagne swilling masked entourage, following Sarah's dance with his own, as he sang to her about loving a young maiden as the world fell down, and then something silly about living with her in a giant floating crystal.  
  
You have no power over me  
  
Sarah awoke, flushed, dazed, and a tiny bit horny as well. Why was her inner dialogue constantly repeating the same statement over and over again? She furrowed her brow, as Jareth appeared before her bed, splendidly dressed, his outfit matching his bandaged hand, a casualty from too many hours of crystal balancing.  
  
"Sarah," he whispered. "I must tell you the truth."  
  
"The truth? I think I know your truth!" she replied haughtily. "I'm not cured at all, am I?"  
  
Jareth glanced away, fiddling with his bandage.  
  
"You lied to me! You didn't take me away to rescue me! You took me away so I could die here! Because you are the one who gave me this horrible handicapped disease!"  
  
Jareth's eyes flashed. "How dare you link me to such a plot contrivance!"  
  
"But it's true, isn't it! No matter how implausible it actually is!" she shouted, hoarse.  
  
Jareth strode over to her incapacitated, but still very voluptuous and sexy body. He grabbed her rakishly by the upper forearms, then slammed her back down  
  
upon the velvet (damask? Velvet damask!) bed.  
  
"You fiend!" Sarah cried. "Release me from your masculine grasp! I hate you!" she promised, as her body pressed hungrily against his own.  
  
"I will have my will with you until you know nothing," Jareth growled, pinning Sarah's lips in a ravishing kiss.  
  
She fought him ruthlessly, even pinched him a few times, and then desperately tried to tickle him. But to no avail. Jareth the Goblin King had no tickle spots.  
  
Jareth ripped open the front of Sarah's dress, toppling over her precious tea that rested on the bedside table. He too had read Sarah's illicit diary. Well, maybe just the one with the yellow ribbon. But no matter. Jareth was Fae. He was therefore equipped with sexual prowess and knowledge that rivaled no other, except maybe a drunken fraternity brother who had read the karma sutra one too many times.  
  
But Jareth quickly ceased his ravishment when he met Sarah's pitifully sad eyes. There was something in them that he had never seen in a woman's eyes before: Love, and also a little terminal illness, but love, glorious love!  
  
Jareth trembled, releasing Sarah's silky velour bodice with lace floral designs. Sarah turned her head away from him as she coughed viciously.  
  
"Jareth!" she murmured. "I'm going to die, aren't I. It's all true, isn't it?"  
  
Jareth leaned down, cradling his queen in his arms. "Yes my dear. It's true, all of it. I gave you this sickness at first as revenge. When you told me you had no power over me, it made me so angry, because I loved you so much. I had never loved anyone so, except maybe myself. And then—"  
  
"Shhhh," Sarah whispered, putting her finger to Jareth's lips. "I understand. And I love you for it. Though that also makes no sense whatsoever but—"  
  
"Oh Sarah!" Jareth cried, pressing her to his bosom until her statement became a mumble. "I love you to distraction, to infinity and—farther than that! It feels so good to say the words instead of hiding behind a unflappable manly persona!"  
  
Sarah smiled weakly. "Let us make the most of our time then, dear sweet Fae lover."  
  
Jareth bent to meet Sarah's icy lips. They were so cold. His Love, his precious midnight star, so cold. And on second thought, Jareth's feet were a little cold too. These black leather riding boots just weren't as well insulated as the others and—  
  
"Jareth," Sarah called softly.  
  
"Sarah," Jareth called softly back. "Let me just hold you, cradle you in my strong yet lightly muscled arms."  
  
Sarah looked up at her Goblin King, slightly bewildered. "You just want to—hold me?"  
  
"Yes!" Jareth cried. "Our love is deeper than five minutes of sweating and rutting about like common animals."  
  
Sarah glanced up at him again. "Only five minutes?"  
  
Jareth's unwrinkled brow furrowed. "Well, maybe eight."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes," he replied. "Oh."  
  
They sat in silence, staring at nothing in particular. Jareth shifted his arm a bit, becoming increasingly bored with the deafening silence until he amused himself for a few moments with playing shadow puppet on the wall.  
  
"So…" Jareth said, bored with his game.  
  
"So…" Sarah replied.  
  
"Should we have sex now?" Jareth suggested.  
  
Sarah turned eagerly to her love. They embraced like newfound lovers, like bluebirds who mate for life, like gorillas in the mist.  
  
Jareth removed what was left of Sarah's clothing, slow at first, then faster, then slower again, until she looked at him with a gaze of confusion.  
  
Fully disengaged from her binding clothing, Sarah leapt on top of Jareth's stellar form, straddling him as she began to suck greedily on his neck.  
  
"Don't leave a mark," Jareth whispered sexily. His hands traveled down to clutch Sarah's buxom derriere, pressing her soft womanhood onto his hard man scabbard.   
  
Sarah moaned, careful not to moan the way she had moaned with Codan, who had a completely different moan than his cousin Jareth's. She wondered, did they perhaps have the same shoe size?  
  
She played around with this thought as Jareth played with her magnificent mammories. Sarah kissed Jareth deeply, grabbing his tongue with her delicate lips, and sucking on it deeply until she feared she might have pulled an important tongue muscle.  
  
Jareth tried to hold onto his Fae sanity as Sarah's nails raked down his chest, her fingers played with his nipples like they were a xylophone of love. He could barely control his urge to thrust himself into her like a lustful prairie dog.  
  
Sarah disengaged herself from Jareth's mouth, sexily wiping away his Fae spittle. She was ready to unzip his pants, but then realized that only Velcro was keeping her from knowing Jareth in the deepest of ways.  
  
Sarah's eyes widened as she released his beautiful bull from its golden cage. She yelped in excitement as he took hold of her naughty frame, pulling her down unto the bed, at the same time entering her completely and fully and magnificently and—oh yes!  
  
Sarah arched her back, pressing herself against Jareth's supple body. They moved together, in synch, like U.S. synchronized swimmers who were beating the evil Russians for the gold medal.  
  
They slipped and slided on the slip and slide of passion. Jareth began to hum like a steaming train, or a furnace about to implode.  
  
"Sarah!" He cried, nearing the end of his 7.89 mile run.  
  
"Co—I mean—Cold Fusion! Yes Jareth, it is Cold Fusion when our bodies meet and are one!" She cried back, released and spent in her Fae man's arms.  
  
Jareth followed, crushing her with his magnificent, yet beautifully delicate weight.  
  
They looked deep into each other's eyes.  
  
Then passed out. 


	6. The Final Phase: Phase 6: Fae Saves the ...

The Final Phase: Phase 6: Fae Saves the Day!  
  
Jareth woke to see Sarah slightly more pale then the usual pale she almost always was. His heart quickened as he grabbed her wrist, feeling for a pulse that wasn't there.  
  
"No!" he yelped. "It isn't true! You can't be dead!"  
  
Jareth leapt from the bed, fierce and naked, summing up all his strength, hoping to save his love with his Fae magic.  
  
But to no avail. The sparklers dancing from his hands fell, useless, to the ground, leaving a glittering trail that someone would have to clean up later.  
  
Jareth fell to his knees, his head bowed, his eyes studying the plush green velvet carpeting. His finger fingered a delicate tea stain. "Oh Sarah," he whispered. "How I love you! How I loved you!"  
  
He swept her unconscious body into his arms, then disappeared from the bedroom, leaving the labyrinth, his kingdom, and all he had known, to return Sarah to her world.  
  
It was only milliseconds before he appeared at Sarah's front door, her body wrapped in a bed sheet, he still completely butt naked.  
  
When Toby opened the door, his eyes widened, his hand going quickly over to his bike horn. Honk Honk.  
  
Nurse Beatrice quickly appeared, then quickly fainted at the site of the gloriously nude Jareth, as he pushed past the two simpletons and into Sarah's abode.  
  
Jareth rushed upstairs and placed Sarah on her bed. He was quick to don her white robe as Nurse Beatrice, fresh from her fainting spell, arrived, explaining that Toby was calling 911.  
  
Nurse Beatrice was quick to perform CPR on the lifeless girl, not asking questions of the incredibly dashing gorgeous at one time naked man who sad beside her.  
  
"You must be able to do something!" Jareth lashed out at Nurse Beatrice, standing with harsh resentment, throwing the bathrobe just so.  
  
"I'm doings alls I can's for the mistress!" Nurse Beatrice cried.  
  
Jareth put his hands on his hips, half out of habit, half because he looked the most attractive this way. "Well, I've tried everything! Fae magic. Some Fae magic. More Fae Magic." He paused. "What if we throw some water on her?"  
  
Nurse Beatrice's glare was enough to silence The Goblin King.   
  
"I feel a pulse!" she cried suddenly.  
  
Jareth slightly trembled as he sat and waited impatiently for the paramedics to arrive. They were quick to take Sarah to the hospital, and Jareth was disappointed that he couldn't ride in the ambulance as he was not a relative.  
  
At the hospital, Jareth, still in his mighty bathrobe, impatiently stalked the hospital hallways, waiting for news on his beloved. He managed to amuse himself for a time by staring at a strange glass encasing with many arrangements of plastic wrapped food goods.  
  
"Uncle Jareth!" Toby came scurrying down the hall. Jareth turned, smiling at the little boy. He was quite cute when not attached to that bike and strange horn.   
  
"Yes child?"   
  
"Sarah's awake! Sarah's awake!" Toby cried, grabbing Jareth's hand and yanking him towards Sarah's room.  
  
Jareth could not hold back his joy as he spied Sarah, awake but very weak, slowly nodding to a Doctor who stood beside her bed. Nurse Beatrice dozed in the corner, her knitting of a tea cozy resting on her lap.  
  
"Jareth!" Sarah managed to speak, her voice barely a mumble as her lover closed in and gave her a vicious, victorious hug.  
  
"My love," Jareth replied. "I don't know what I would have done if you had…"  
  
Sarah smiled, the dark circles under her eyes unable to dim her beauty, rather instead making her look like an anorexic model.  
  
"I love you Jareth."  
  
Jareth kissed Sarah softly, whispering back that he loved her too. He promised her that as soon as she was well, they would marry and live the rest of her days wherever she chose.  
  
Sarah smiled. "Anywhere with you. That's all that matters."  
  
Jareth clutched Sarah tightly. "Anything my darling. Anything."  
  
"Ahem."  
  
The two lovers looked up to an impatient doctor, tapping his pen on his medical clipboard.  
  
"Would you like to know why your 'love' was hospitalized in the first place?" The doctor asked haughtily.  
  
Jareth cleared his throat and looked blankly at the doctor. "I suppose."  
  
The doctor cleared his throat and looked at Sarah. "The reason you went unconscious and almost died from complications Sarah is because someone in your condition cannot take any sort of physical strain."  
  
"And?" Sarah questioned seriously.  
  
The doctor looked over at Jareth. "The cause of all this was what we doctors like to term 'sexual exhaustion'."  
  
Sarah looked at Jareth. The doctor and she stared at the now sheepish king in perfect silence.  
  
Jareth adjusted his bathrobe, not realizing he wasn't wearing a codpiece. "Well—I—uh." He then threw back his shoulders, ash blond hair dancing in the stale air.   
  
"I am Fae," he explained.  
  
THE END..OR IS IT...PROBABLY 


	7. Author's Note

okay, so soooo many of you luv my story soooo much i think i'm going to write a sequel! i'm not sure how, but it will be full of romance and danger! and of course jareth and sarah, sillies! Jareth and Sarah 4evah!!"  
  
IBITAD!  
  
Faeluver 


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